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“I look a little different than I did in fifth grade,” she says with a laugh. “That’s the last time I saw you, right?”
“Yeah, you left a few weeks after school started.”
She really looks different, and older than eighteen. I would’ve guessed she’s in her twenties. It could be the makeup she’s wearing making her look older. She’s really pretty. My heart’s still going fast as I look at her. Am I nervous, or why am I reacting this way?
“Remember how scrawny she used to be?” Troy says. “Kids used to make fun of her. But now she’s filled out.” He grins as he gazes at her body. “She’s finally got an ass. And she’s got great tits.”
Tara whips back to face him. “Would you stop talking about me that way?”
“Don’t tell me how to fucking talk!” He bolts up from his chair and grabs her arm. “I was giving you a compliment. You don’t even deserve it, but I did it anyway. To be nice. And then you treat me this way?” He grips her harder, his fingers digging into her arm.
“Sorry,” she mutters, looking down.
Why is he treating her like that? He’s obviously hurting her, but he won’t let go.
“Dude, relax,” Sean says to Troy from the kitchen. “Is anyone hungry? The hotdogs are ready.”
“I’ll take one,” Leo says.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Troy says to Tara.
She nods and they walk out of the room.
I wait until I hear the bedroom door close, then say to Leo, “What’s going on there?”
“What do you mean?” Leo asks, as Sean hands him a hotdog wrapped in a piece of white bread.
“The way he’s treating her. Is he always like that?”
“Yeah,” Sean says, biting into his hotdog as he sits down in the chair Troy just left. “They’re always arguing.”
“That wasn’t just arguing. He was hurting her.”
“Stay out of it,” Leo says. “Saying something to him will just piss him off. You know he doesn’t like people telling him what to do.”
“I don’t care if he doesn’t like it. He shouldn’t be grabbing her like that.”
“Jake, seriously,” Sean says. “Stay out of it. You got your own problems to deal with. You want a refill on the vodka?”
“No, I’m good.” I still have half of what he gave me, and I’m not sure I can finish it and still drive. “You got anything else to eat?”
“We might have some canned stuff in the cupboard,” Sean says. “Go in there and check.”
I shouldn’t be eating his food. I remember when Dean and I had nothing and a can of soup would have to last us until we had money again.
“That’s okay. I’m good.”
“Have a hotdog,” Leo says. “Sean didn’t overcook them this time.”
“Don’t be complaining about my cooking,” Sean says. “You’re lucky I feed you.”
I’m feeling kind of sick after drinking vodka on an empty stomach. I go to the kitchen, deciding to eat one of the hotdogs. They’re lined up on a paper plate, some of them shriveled at the ends. I take one and stuff it in my mouth.
“These aren’t bad,” I say, standing at the counter.
“Told you,” Sean says. “They’re all beef. The expensive kind. Mick got them from the food donation place.”
“Where’s that?”
